Pack of Wolves
by bless-ya-soul
Summary: Slight AU, continuation from the current season of The Walking Dead t.v. show. A new group arrives at Alexandria, a kid army. How they interact with Rick's group and just random little adventures...
1. I

His feet began to drag as the weight of the limp body in his hands grew heavier. His muscles were screaming at him to stop but he pressed forward, unable to lift his feet more than a few inches off the ground. The scenery passed by him slowly, his eyes squinting heavily from the hot sun. There was the sound of heavy breathing coming from behind him; the pack was tired. They had drank the last few drops of water and were in it for the long stretch now. It was this or nothing, he had told them. Not exactly a choice, but an ultimatum that he'd regretted as soon as it came out. But regardless, it had been said..

Glancing down at the body in his hands, he felt like crying but the tears wouldn't come. That was happening a lot more recently. Not the disappearing tears but having the feeling of crying and not actually. His body was shutting down, preserving any ounce of water or energy it could. _Who would have thought that even crying was too hard?_

If he had been in better spirits he would have started to sing, or at least smiled back at the troop. Instead he began with a low humming sound, resonating deep in the back of his throat. It was all he could manage. Slow and sad, a sort of "pirate-like" hum. It grew louder as the humming from the others joined his. It started to turn, losing hope as the sun beat down and the road continued in front of them.

Moving at a snail pace, the group could barely lift their heads. Many had their caps pulled low over their eyes to shield as much of their face from the sun. Others had given up completely, submitting to the will of mother nature. As cruel as she wanted to be, they were hers. His eyes moved up from the heavy body in his arms to scan the tree-line. There were walkers peeking at them from the trees, none of which posing any real threat. Even if they had, it was doubtful the troop would have been much of a challenge. The asphalt grew dark and a large cloud moved in front of the sun- It was a sigh of relief for the tired pack.

"It's too heavy," he croaked, his voice dry and raspy. His feet had stopped moving and he swayed. The pack halted behind him, watching his back with worry. There was a large, heavily supported wall in front of them, several hundred yards away. Just when they almost reached the limit, the end of the long road, he couldn't move another inch. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed on the ground.

There was a sound of pounding feet and he tried desperately to open his tired eyes. Light streamed in through his fluttering lids, catching sight of various pairs of feet. He could feel hands touching his body. It made his skin crawl as he waited for the one bite that would end it all. It never came and his eyes shut, presumably forever.


	2. II

II.

His mind was slowly awakened, the fog finally clearing and the sleep wearing off. There was something soft covering him. He was lying down and he could move his fingers. Yes, his fingers were working, and his toes, his legs and arms. He wasn't restrained. Behind his eyes he could feel the sunlight shining down, presumably from a window near by. It was dead silent and he listened hard for any type of noise. His mind immediately raced to his pack, recalling the events from the past several days: the attack by the raiders, that long road, no food or water, and Tim.

_Oh God, and Tim! _He bolted upright in panic, looking wildly around the plain room.

_Where were the rest of them? _One moment he had been walking, holding Tim in his arms, and then everything black.

He looked down at himself. He was naked. They had taken his clothes and his weapons, his jacket and his people. Grabbing the clear IV packet from its hook, he got to his feet ignoring the head rush and ringing, and bolted to the door. He glanced around for something to smash against the handle- a lamp would work. He grabbed it and gave the metal a few hard whacks. That long walk and lack of food had left him weaker than he thought, and his breath quickly grew heavy. Like a cornered feral animal, he searched the room for another way, catching sight of the window. Crossing the room, he threw it open and glanced down. It was a nice house, two stories up with a large covered porch that would give him a roof to crawl onto. He worked fast, assuming the banging must have caught the attention of whoever else was here. The cold wind whipped against him as he scooted down the roof towards the edge. It was still a rather large drop, but one he was going to risk.

Taking a quick moment, he scanned the street. It seemed like they had entered a gated community, one of those ritzy places young professionals spend millions on. Jumping to the ground, he tucked and rolled to break the fall. It was too soon and the tumble made his head spin. His mind pushed him forward, thinking only about the others. _Where could they be? They must have been captured, that was obvious… And perhaps the others were in one of these houses?_

He looked around the neighbourhood, growing quickly disheartened. There were just too many to search. He scratched the unruly and frankly itchy beard-ish thing he had growing on his face. His long brown hair fell around his neck, barely touching his shoulders. His body was scraped and bruised, turned brown from being in the sun too long and coated in a wholesome layer of dirt. Limping down the street, he headed deeper into the community, wandering lost and worried. He felt as though his entire person, all he held dear had been ripped from him. His pace quickened and he began to run. Looking around on both sides of the street he noticed people slowly beginning to trickle from their houses, standing on their porch steps and starring at the wild naked boy running down the street. Children were ushered inside and men grew nervous and protective.

His breath hitched in his mouth as he called out for his pack. His wolves had vanished and like the protective mother, his mind and body panicked.

"Tim!" He yelled, his voice raspy and strained, cracking almost immediately. "Tim! Matty!" He continued to yell. "Chris!" His feet stopped as the curious people grew closer. He felt like an actor on stage, people gawking at the side-show freak. However in the moment he didn't care, his pride all but leaving him and being overridden by the sheer panic and worry.

A man reached a careful hand towards him which was quickly swatted away. He grabbed the needle in his arm and yanked himself free, dropping the clear pack to the ground.

"Matty!? Tim!" He called out again as the people crept closer. He recognized a uniform approaching, a cop.

"Where are they?" He grabbed the collar of a youngish guy, shaking him hard with all his strength, which wasn't much at the moment. "What did you people do with them?" His voice raised an octave as his eyes grew wild, searching the growing crowd for one of his own.

"Enough!" A woman's voice called out as she walked towards him, the people parting like the dead sea. He backed up, still facing her and his hands quickly cupped himself. He immediately felt her authority and seemed to cower under the stares, growing more aware of his exposure. "Get this boy a blanket." She called out, which was promptly received by several women wearing cardigans, all of whom put blankets around his shoulders. He hadn't realized he was shaking and blood ran down his forearm from where he had pulled the needle. His weak muscles started to give way as he saw one of his own push through the crowd.

"Chris?" He said in a defeated voice. He searched for the others who were following behind the boy in a line. Chris was about 5'9 and slightly more built than the others. His biceps were toned and he had sandy blonde hair that was cut short. His face was just starting to grow hair and as a result was short and patchy. He had a face hardened from his former life, and dark eyes that kept everyone at a distance. The little ones peeked out from behind Chris, staring at their leader with wild and confused eyes.

"I, uh.." He said, his cheeks turning red. He was speechless and didn't know what to say.

"It's alright." The woman said in a gentle voice. "Okay someone take him back to the house and we'll get this all sorted out." She said, not sure how to handle the newcomers. "Whats your name son?" She asked, talking down in the way adults usually did to a group of children.

He ignored her tone, the shock and confusion of everything making his head pound. "Uh, Morrie. Morrison actually." He extended his hand but retracted it quickly, embarrassed as to what it had been holding only moments before. He quickly tightened the blanket around his shoulders and glanced to Chris, who was hiding a small smirk. The little ones ran forward and hugged his bare legs. The feeling made the weight on his shoulders lift.

This was his family, his pack. Fearsome and unruly, but his all the same. Matty the smallest was just about 4 (or so they had guessed), then there was Tim but he…

And Franklin who was 8, and Jed at about 12, Luke 16, who hadn't spoken much since the death of his little brother a few weeks ago, and of course Chris at 17.

The boys all began talking wildly at him, growing excited and talking about things he didn't fully understand. Light switches that actually worked, a school with real books, water from the metal things attached to the sink.

"They're called taps, dumbo." Jed spat, giving Franklin a shove.

Morrie looked down at the boys, slowly retrieving his authority, "And Tim?" He asked, though he already knew the answer. The boys all fell silent. The woman grew sad and the faces around them fell.

"We tried our best but he was gone before we got him." One man interjected quietly. Morrie nodded, shaking his head and ruffling some of the boy's hair sadly. He whistled through an invisible hole in his teeth. The boys immediately stepped away from his person and formed a straight line. It was time to move on, this world didn't give the living a chance to grieve. It was the price of survival; a new state of nature.


	3. III

III.

"This is just for our records." She said, gesturing for Morrie to sit in the armchair in front of an old video camera. He frowned at the sight of it, running a hand through his long, greasy hair to slick it out of his eyes. It wasn't the fact that she was "filming this." No, it was her attitude.

"I don't care, do whatever." He said, pacing slightly before finally taking a seat. He wiped his nose on his arm. They had thankfully returned his things, giving him a chance to put on some clothes before this interview. He had a black leather vest with various coloured pins, plaid patches and feathers hanging from it. Under was just a black v-neck t-shirt. His pants were slightly tapered in at the ankles and he had various bandanas and a cloth wrapped around his wrists and forehead. He looked like a "lost boy." The pack was co-ordinated like a disciplined army had to be, right down to the little one, though practicality often overruled uniform. Despite that however, their matching vests and mis-matched clothing seemed to act as one. Right from the beginning, he would tell them stories from the old days, their favourite naturally being _Peter Pan_. From then on he was "Peter," guiding them back to Neverland. It had always made him laugh, thinking not of the boy that never grew up, but instead the disciple leading humanity to salvation. It was a bitter thought, with only the faint remnants of his past faith. His knee bounced nervously as he glanced around. "What is this place?" He asked her confused. _How could they have electricity? Running water? _

"It's a community that was built for sustainability. It's 100% self reliant, though we have many people here that keep it running. Every person living in Alexandria does their part so we can all live safely behind the wall." She said matter-a-fact, closely examining him. He felt like a specimen under a microscope, but ignored the feeling. It wasn't time just yet…

Instead Morrie started to chuckle, shaking his head. "Sounds a bit too good to be true." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty sure I used to read books about these kinds of places. 'Fore you know it, you lot will be eating each other in a basement somewhere, preforming exorcisms." He joked, though it wasn't funny. In a world like this, the troop had run into stranger things.

The woman chuckled in a strained voice, trying to be nice. She expertly steered the conversation back to her goal. "So Morrison, tell me about the boys?"

The question seemed to strike a chord and Morrie balled his fists, rising to his feet protectively. "Don't you touch them." He said in a dangerously low voice. "If you even think about—"

She cut him off, raising a hand. "I was only thinking about how you will fit into this community. Everyone needs to pull their weight."

—/—

_Pull their weight?_ He glanced around the busy street, her voice still resonating in his mind. This group was weak. Everything was back to convenience, having things at their fingertips. None of them had to work to survive everyday. They seemed to have forgotten what it was like out there, back in the wild. Following behind a tall brunette "soccer mom", her voice was lost behind his thoughts. She had asked him a question. He stopped walking,

"Wait, huh?" He frowned, trying to sound polite. It was weird interacting with people again. The pack had been alone for so long, those boys were his family now. Just by being away for a few hours, he was already feeling anxious and worried.

The woman chuckled sweetly, "_I said_ that unfortunately another group just arrived a few days before you, so we gave away the last two houses. Until this is all sorted, we can see if they will give one of them up temporarily." He continued following closely behind her, already spotting the boys playing and rough-housing on the lawn. There were people on porches watching the pack and making Morrie feel instantly protective. It was imperative that they showed strength and discipline. These people couldn't see them as weak or vulnerable. Thats how they would be taken advantage of. They were _just kids _after all_. _

Morrie nodded and smiled at her, trying to be friendly. Instead it looked strained and a bit unnerving, making the woman look away immediately uncomfortable. Morrie stuck his thumb and finger in his mouth and whistled a few notes loudly. The boys immediately got up from their tackling and stood at attention in a straight line. Even the little one knew his place and stood shoulder to shoulder with his brothers. They approached, the woman smiling at the boys. She wanted to coo at little Matty but instead just waved.

"Hello boys! How are you all settling in?" She asked, looking at their hardened faces. They all looked like they just needed a hug. It made the mother's heart break. None of the boys replied. They remained silent, faces straight and eyes vacant. It was as though they hadn't heard her question. The woman frowned and tilted her head, seeing the (lack of) action as rude. She glanced to Morrie but shrugged it off. Newcomers were always strange. The road did that to people.

Morrie hid the beginnings of a smirk at the woman's confusion. Sure they were just showing off, but now was the time to do so. All eyes were on them and they were going to put up a good fight if needed.


	4. IV

IV.

Morrie glanced across the lawn and spotted a group of people staring. They seemed different than the others in this strange community. Less adjusted and a bit on edge. He recognized the cop from before. "Are they the other newcomers you were talking about?" He asked the woman, gesturing to the cop and his group.

"Yup, thats them. Say hello to your neighbours boys!" She sang happily. The boys didn't respond and continued staring straight ahead. She frowned again. Morrie caught the look.

"They won't respond. They're standing at attention. I haven't dismissed them yet." He said flatly, more curious about "the neighbours" then in explaining the boy's actions. "You gave them cop positions when they just arrived?" He asked, giving her a slightly disgusted look. _Were these people stupid? Or maybe just desperate? _Deanna Monroe had gone through the whole spiel with him, assigning all the adults jobs so they would "pull their weight." She had also said she didn't know what to do with him.

The woman chuckled at the face he had made, "whatever the congresswoman sees fit. She's usually always right about people.. Well except with—" The woman stopped herself short and made a fake smile. "I suggest you get to know them. Never know when you need to borrow a cup of flour." She said happily, giving Rick a wave. He waved back reluctantly and a bit confused.

Morrie made another face, "a cup of flour…." He repeated in a quiet voice. It was so foreign. He had given up all hope of returning to normal. His past life seemed like a dream, though it was all flooding back to him now.

"Well if there's anything else you need.." the woman said, pointing to a house on the corner. "I live just down the block so don't be afraid to holler." She smiled, and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched and she looked embarrassed, quickly walking away.

"See you soon boys." She said, waving to the boys as she passed. Matty raised a hand to wave back but Franklin gave him a little nudge. He quickly lowered the hand and stared straight ahead.

Once she was out of sight, Morrie seemed to sigh with relief. He wasn't relaxed but feeling a bit less uneasy. He glanced at the eyes on him from next-door. Figuring it was a better time if any, he crossed the lawn to the other group. Not knowing what to say, he just stood in front of their porch awkwardly. There was a young pretty girl that was several years older than him, a man in the cop uniform with a black woman beside him. Another woman appeared, much older than the rest and dressed like "them."

"I, uh.." He said, still a bit speechless. He knew that although his pack wasn't looking at him, they were still listening. They would follow his lead, no matter what. Morrie scratched his head, cursing himself for coming over. _What was he even doing, "saying hello?"_

"Would you like to come in?" Carol asked the boy carefully, as no one else was going to save him from the embarrassment.

Morrie frowned slightly. He didn't, but hesitated in saying so. "Yeah. Okay." He said finally, glancing back at his pack before climbing up the porch. He ran right into a boy about Luke's age. He had to do a double take, not used to seeing a kid around that wasn't one of his own. He locked eyes with him for a moment, before the boy looked away to the cop.

"Dad, I just want to take look at the wall," the boy said to the cop.

"Okay Carl. Make sure you stay in sight of the house. Where's Judith?"

"She's asleep in the living room." Carl replied, heading off towards the wall. Morrie watched the boy's back as he walked away. Finally pulling his gaze away, he caught the cop watching him carefully.

"Rick Grimes." He said in a gruff voice, walking up the porch and inside.

"Morrison," he replied, following. He walked through the crowd of people awkwardly- an asian guy, a few more young girls, and a rather large ginger cracking his knuckles. Morrie felt like he'd just walked into a lion's den. "Some place," he muttered to himself more than to anyone else, glancing around the professionally decorated house.

There was a snorting noise coming from behind him as a man pushed his shoulder hard to shove him out of the way. It was a man with longish hair and a leather jacket like his own. Morrie frowned, but continued to follow Rick into the living room.

Rick picked up the baby that was lying asleep peacefully on the couch, resting her on his shoulder. Morrie watched, not having seen a real baby in a while. She must have been born into all this which was rare. He wondered which of these women was her mother. Rick caught him staring, frowning uneasily. Morrie looked away quickly and blushed with embarrassment. It still wasn't polite to stare.

"So you guys just arrived too?" Morrie asked, following Rick's lead and sitting on the couch across from him.

Rick ignored his question, "how long has your group been together?" He gestured to the boys standing on the line through the window. Morrie followed his gaze and smiled at his loyal pack, the hot sun beating down unforgivingly.

"Well I bounced around from many groups in the beginning, none lasting long. I met Tim on the road and Chris, my second. Franky came after and Jed. Then Luke and his brother Simon, and we just picked up the little one a few months ago." It seemed like they'd been together forever, but thinking about it now, it hadn't really been that long.

"That's 7.. There's only 5 out there now." Rick said, his eyes darkening.

"Yeah, well its been a rough journey." Morrie shot back, growing defensive. He didn't like anyone questioning his command, let alone a stranger. "If you're suggesting—"

"I was only asking." Rick said in a gentler tone, raising a hand to quiet him. "And you're their leader?"

Morrie's eyes narrowed, sizing up the man. "You're really getting into this whole cop routine, aren't you?" He nodded at Rick's uniform. "If thats the case, I wanna speak to my lawyer." He said in a flat, challenging voice. It was a joke but he didn't feel like laughing.

The other woman with the dreads and a cop uniform, was leaning against the side of the couch. She chuckled quietly, though both Rick and Morrie shot her a look. She rolled her eyes and walked off smirking.

Tension seemed to dissipate then and Morrie cracked a small smile. "Sorry. I'm not used to being around so many people," he glanced at all the faces watching him. "But I think you all can understand that." He said perceptively, noticing the closeness the group seemed to share with each other. These weren't just average raiders or blackhawkes.

There were two types of groups one met on the road during these times. Raiders- a group that travelled together mainly for convenience. You were either a threat to them or an asset, and any way you toss it, it was unfortunate for you. And say goodbye to all your stuff because they usually lived communally, including sharing their women.

The other, "blackhawkes" as the boys had coined them, were even more terrifying. These were the types of people that kept you up at night, forgetting all about the walkers stumbling around you. They kill just about everything they come across without question. Usually ex cons, or gang members, though they sometimes take in sadistic fucks like old businessmen and cops. You see them coming, you run. There's no fighting. Usually well trained, if they catch scent of you they will track you till you're dead.

Morrie had only come across one person who had ever made it out of an attack alive, and that was just by luck. Chris. The toughest guy Morrie had ever met, and he still heard him weeping about it at night when they were supposed to be asleep. He had asked him about it once, but Chris said he couldn't talk about it. He did say however that they should imagine them as though all the horror movies got melted into one big groud. As if Freddy Krueger, Jason, Hannibal, Chucky, and that chick from _The Ring_ got together to wreak destruction on an already fucked up world.

The two men continued to talk for a while, before Carol finally came in and interrupted. "I could go call the boys inside if you want?" She offered, hearing Rick laugh at something the boy had said.

Morrie looked up, "oh shoot," getting to his feet. He'd forgotten all about his pack. _How could he have possibly?_

He glanced at his dead Rolex watch and frowned. They had been outside in the sun for at least a few hours. Morrie didn't say another word and went to the front door, Rick following close behind him. He stepped out onto the porch and whistled a few notes loudly. "At ease," he called to them. The boys all seemed to simultaneously groan and wiggle their stiff limbs. Matty stumbled forwards and bent down to pick up a cookie off a plate in front of them that some lady had brought out in sympathy (and confusion). Matty raised his little hand triumphantly and squealed to Morrie, running forwards to show him his treat.

"Hey, where'd you get that?" Morrie smirked, scooping the boy up in his arms. Matty giggled and bounced in his arms excitedly, waving his cookie.

"Some lady brought them out," Jed said holding the plate and trying to guard the precious cookies from the boys trying to steal them. The older ones got the upper hand and took a few laughing.

Franklin pulled at Jed, "Lemme have one! Hey, I want one too!" He started to whine, fighting Jed for the cookies.

"So you forgot about us, eh?" Chris smirked and shook his head at Morrie, before glancing at the other group, focusing on Rick. He rubbed his hands together excitedly, "some place we've got here." Chris knew it wasn't going to last long and figured they might as well enjoy it as much as possible before it was gone. Besides, Morrie did enough worrying for the whole pack.

"Fellas, this is Rick." Morrie said, talking more to Chris and Luke. He quickly grabbed a cookie from the plate and gave it to Franklin without another word. Jed frowned but ate the last one happily.

Matty stuck his cookie in his mouth to suck on it.

"Can I have a bite?" Morrie cooed at him.

"No. Mine." The baby said, shaking his head. He was in that stage, the "terrible twos" that seemed to be lasting a lot longer than usual.

"Heyyyyyyyy… Thats not very nice.." Morrie frowned, giving his tummy a tickle. Matty laughed and pulled the cookie from his mouth to inspect it. The pack was invited inside, the house filled with all kinds of people now. The boys looked uncomfortable, as did their new neighbours but it was better than being with the "others."


	5. V

V.

He woke up slowly, aware of the comfortable, soft cushion beneath his head. A pillow; so simple a luxury, and forgettable until finally having it returned to him. He hadn't even thought about the small comforts in a bed. Having more than one sheet or blanket, and being able to stretch out his legs and arms out across the soft mattress without finding another little body beside him. It had only been his nose that caused his dream to end so abruptly, not that he regretted it much. Strange how the exhausted body dreams. He no longer dreamt in colour. There were no faces, concrete events or sequences. Most often he found himself in a deep hole. It felt as though he was moving but could only see a dark abyss surrounding his consciousness. He'd be self aware in this dream, not afraid or lost, but definitely not relaxed either. It was as though his brain was trying to show him small "movies" but found itself too tired (or lacking inspiration) to put the correct pieces together. Instead, this new dream world was a black darkness like he was travelling through space- minus all the stars and cool asteroids and aliens and such.

Morrie yawned and rubbed his eyes, still not committed to getting up. The smells wafting into his room through the small crack in the door was something like a lost memory, milky, buttery. He couldn't put a name on the smell, his mind drawing a blank. He strained his ears to listen for any noises coming from downstairs. So used to sleeping with his pack (they always shared a room together) being alone was a strange, new sensation. He threw on a dark blue t-shirt and grabbed his knife, stuffing it behind his back into the waistband of his checkered pyjama pants. Pushing the door open, he peeked out stealthily. Despite his efforts however, the lack of oil on the old finishes caused the solid oak door to creak loudly, blowing his cover. He breathed in sharply, holding his lungs tightly till he couldn't any longer, letting it go slowly through his mouth.

He crept down the open hallway, making note of the sun already being higher in the sky then it should be. _Must be about 10 am_, he thought, which was very late considering his usual schedule.

There was a long pause at the top of the stairs in which his foot hung frozen in mid-air upon its descent to the first step. The rest was easy till he found the kitchen.

Carol was busy stirring a stainless bowl in her arms, talking to Franklin about something which the boy found exciting. The other were seated around the island, watching and talking, mingling with some of Rick's group.

With the lack of houses, the pack hadn't been given an assignment until Rick's group became " a bit more settled," Monroe's words exactly. It had seemed strange to him at the time, but Morrie didn't question it. There were too many other things preoccupying his mind instead of worrying about town logistics. Besides, he didn't count on them staying here long. So the two groups would be sharing the two houses: the pack took the upstairs floor in the blue house and the rest did what they wanted.

"Bout time, sleeping beauty." Chris chuckled, turning in his seat to flash a smirk at Morrie.

_Pancakes! That's what the smell is. How could he have forgotten what real homemade pancakes smelt like?_

It was system overload, his eyes unable to focus on the faces of the boys. His mind raced as he watched Carol stir the bowl rapidly. The oven dinged to notify its user of the finished contents inside. Franklin spoke wildly. Chris stared at Morrie and waved a hand in front of his face. Rick entered the room and called out greetings to the large group. A few women followed and one patted his shoulder. Luke frowned and asked Morrie a question but he couldn't hear. It was as though his head was under water and sounds became muffled, light just a kaleidoscope of colours. His throat tightened. His eyes blinked several times, trying to focus themselves. His mouth was dry and palms sweaty.

He was going to be sick.

"Morrie? Hey." Chris called again for the third time, snapping a few times in front of the leader's vacant eyes. Luke looked worried as the other boys turned, the episode gaining a greater audience.

His breath grew more shallow and rapid, as the oxygen refused to reach the rest of his cells. Chris held the other boys back while they tried to close in around him with concern. Turning on his heels suddenly, Morrie bolted from the kitchen to the door, tears filling his eyes and making his vision blurry and distorted. He banged into an end table on his way out, pushing it away with more force then he'd meant to.

The kitchen had fallen silent, the two groups looking at each other with confusion. Morrie broke through the stuffy house, reaching the large covered porch. He jumped the three steps leading to the grass and dropped to his knees, gasping loudly like someone drowning. His chest was tight and tears streamed down his face. _He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe,_ panicking and shaking. _What was happening to him?_

_Had he finally lost it like all the others that you hear about on the road?_

It seemed like minutes went by, kneeling on the grass, struggling to find a breath and calm his nerves, when in reality it was only a matter of seconds. Something tapped his shoulder lightly. He looked up and turned to see a brown paper bag. Daryl offered it to the boy, who took it with confusion. It was an old school lunch bag that Morrie had no idea what to do with it.

"Breathe in it." Daryl said sheepishly, giving a little shrug. He looked awkward and embarrassed, resorting to miming. Daryl pretended to breathe into an invisible bag but finally sighed and lowered his hand, feeling stupid. The others had begun to trickle out of the house, unsure how to approach the situation.

"Panic attack," Daryl said to Rick and Michonne as he headed up the porch steps, returning to his perch on the railing.

Morrie looked down at the brown paper bag lying in his open hands, shaking while his breath finally began to catch. It was still shallow and rapid like his heartbeat, but he was no longer gasping for air.

Chris glanced over at Luke, who had remained quiet and solemn, as was his way. Breaking through the line, Chris approached slowly.

"Morrie?" He asked, unable to hide the quiver in his voice. "Morrison." He tried again with a bit more conviction. _What would they do if they lost him? Their leader. _The thought was scarier than the walkers or anything else they had faced on the road. A threat that was always in the back of the boy's minds.

Chris crouched down on his haunches behind him, a hand placed on his shoulder gently to try and bring him back to the present. Morrie was grateful for the gesture though he couldn't say so.

"You know, they were just pancakes…" Chris said softly after several moments, trying to lighten the mood. Morrison glanced over his shoulder and rolled his eyes, unable to help but chuckle. It turned into a laugh, as the two boys shared the small moment on the lawn, wiping away the tears. His breath was all but caught and he was feeling a bit better. Exhausted and weak, but better. The two got to their feet and headed back to the porch.

"Alright! Let's eat!" Chris exclaimed, hoping up on the porch, and missing the stairs. The boys cheered loudly, hungry and excited to try the warm little cakes. The other group had begun to trickle inside the house also, ready for their bellies to be filled. Morrie found Daryl in the crowd, and held out the paper bag to him.

"Uh, thanks." He said meekly, looking down.

Daryl took the bag and smirked, "You were supposed to blow in it, ya know." He said shaking his head. _Kids these days. _

They followed the rest of the large group inside and Morrie picked up Matty who had finally stopped crying, though still whimpering now and again. He put him on one hip and tickled the little one's tummy. Getting a happy chuckle, he hugged him tightly, happy to have something in his arms as a distraction for the moment.

Carol had gone back to work, placing the plates in front and loading them up healthily. "Okay, food's up." She said proudly, happy to have a family to feed. There was no doubt the road had changed her, it had changed all of them. She was a different woman, but she really did enjoy cooking for the group. The smiles and chorus of "mmmm's" always felt good, especially when she had a new repertoire of ingredients to experiment with.

Once food was dealt the group scattered into the many rooms, talking wildly and making observations about their new living situation.

"What's it called again—" Franky asked, furrowing his brow and taking a large bite of mostly syrup.

Jed sighed and rolled his eyes, "You're real stupid. He's told you about a billion times already!"

"I ain't stupid, stupid. You're stupid!" Franklin snapped back, extremely offended.

Jed laughed, "See? An' you can't even think of a better thing to call me."

Morrie lowered his fork, a watchful eye and ear on the boys by the window. Matty pulled on his ear, mumbling for more food. He was bouncing on the leader's lap and eagerly awaiting another fork full.

"I could call you others but they ain't nice, so I'm not gunna.." Franklin replied simply.

"Oh yeah? An' what'd that be Dodo-brain? You too stupid to know any other names." Jed continued to antagonize, the first to finish off his plate.

Franklin huffed at the insult, getting riled up. "You're a— you're a— bitch." He exclaimed, to an abrupt gasp from Jed.

"I ain't a bitch!" He shot back, getting to his feet and putting down his plate.

Morrie sighed and picked up the little one, placing him on the floor beside Chris and putting the unfinished plate in the baby's lap. Chris shot Morrie a puzzled look and took another bite. He was aware that the leader hadn't eaten much and was going to say something when he got the chance.

"That's enough." Morrie said to the young boys that were staring at each other in an intense face off.

The boys started to talk wildly over each other, trying to explain.

"He called me a bitch!"

"Did not!"

"Yah you did! Don't lie, you liar! You're a stupid liar dodo-brain!"

"Enough!" Morrie raised his voice and the room fell silent. Eyes turned to him and he could see Rick from the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but feel a little nervous, though why was a mystery.

Jed was about to open his mouth but closed it after Morrie raised his hand.

"We don't use that word. You hear me?" He asked them, having crossed the room to stand over the pair.

Franklin started to cry.

"Baby." Jed muttered quietly under his breath.

"Hey!" Morrie was quick and caught the comment. "What's gotten into you? We don't talk to our brothers like that."

Jed looked down, still frowning angrily.

"Well?" The leader pressed, looking an answer.

The room remained silent, eyes avoiding trying to avoid the disturbance. There was always something, that was just pack life.

"What did you just say?" Morrie raised his voice again, his face growing red. "What did you just call me?" He pressed again, his temper getting the better of him.

Jed was silent but glaring back at Morrie daringly.

"That's it." He barked. In one swift movement, he grabbed the boy and pulled him towards the door. "You don't talk to me or anyone else like that, ya hear? Are you listening Jedediah—"

"Don't call me that!" The boy glared, digging his heels into the carpet. "I hate you! Lemme go!" The boy yelled.

Morrie's eyes narrowed, picking up the struggling boy like a sack of potatoes and holding him under his one arm.

"That's enough, you need to cool off. You want to act like a dog then I'll treat you like one."

The boy continued to struggle, crying wildly now and kicking his feet. He brought a knee up and knocked Morrie in the kidney with all his strength. Though the boy was small, he packed a hard kick. Morrison winced and dropped the boy, putting an arm to grip his side.

He breathed heavily, still weak from earlier this morning. Chris was already up on his feet, grabbing Jed's arm and pulling the boy outside to the porch. The boy's booming voice could be heard from inside. "You stand there and don't you dare move. Not one inch, yah hear? You stand there and wait till he calls you back in." He yelled, drawing a tight circle around the boy's feet before stomping back inside and shutting the door.

Morrie had gotten up on one knee, preparing himself for the hoist up. His side was on fire and he cursed the boy in his mind, though quickly shook the thoughts away. Chris offered a hand but Morrie refused, getting to his feet with gritted teeth.

Chris looked away from Morrison quickly and sat back down.

Franklin came running, hugging Morrie's legs in an act of atonement and crying silently. Luke had been watching but finally resumed his eating in silence.

Morrie smoothed the boy's hair back before unhinging his grip on his legs. "Okay, now go sit back down. We'll talk later." he said quietly, his calm returning.

He turned to Rick and the others. "Sorry for that." he said earnestly, embarrassed on behalf of his boys. "We aren't usually— well it's just been a lot." He tried to explain, though failing. Words couldn't really describe how this new place was wearing at the group, especially the little ones.

The only one to speak was Glen, "It's okay… We just got here too." He tried to make Morrie feel a bit better. His wife just smiled kindly without a word.

Chris got up, having finished his breakfast, settling into a huff. "It's coming." He said flatly as he passed Morrison.

Morrie frowned and looked up at his second, trying to deduce the meaning. "What are you—" He started but stopped, realizing what the boy had meant. He paused, unsure how to respond. Deep down he knew it was coming. Brewing for a while.

"Just a head's up." Chris said flatly, a bit of bitterness and edge in his voice. Morrie got to his feet and frowned, stepping in front of Chris.

Chris pushed past with his shoulder, gentle and considerate of the recent kidney shot.

"That kid out there—" Chris started, pointing out the window to Jed who was standing at attention on the grass, "well.. don't say I didn't warn you." He trailed off, heading to the kitchen. Luke got up from his seat and patted Morrison's shoulder as he followed Chris. It wasn't a reassuring pat, but one with pity and sympathy. Morrie stared after the two boys, his pack dividing before his eyes. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that was making him want to throw up. Rick's eyes narrowed, watching Morrison very carefully, analyzing his face with a cop-like stare. It was as though he was reading his mind, searching for whatever it was he was looking for. Rubbing his temples he returned to the couch and picked up his plate. Matty had wandered off into the corner to play quietly with Franklin, the tension in the air making everyone nervous.

Morrie folded his hands in a praying manner and rested his mouth on both his thumbs, looking weary. _What was he going to do now? Things were slipping through his fingers._


End file.
